


Turning Tables

by oyakodon (prevaricator)



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, hints of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prevaricator/pseuds/oyakodon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maintaining respect as the leader of a band is difficult for an omega, and Jiyong has always kept Seungri at arm's length for fear of losing his authority. Then one day he finds himself in heat, alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Tables

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ABO AU, but everything else can pretty much be assumed to be the same as canon, i.e. Big Bang exists. I'm pretty lazy about timelines, though.

Jiyong goes into heat alone for the first time in his mid-twenties. His bitch of an ex dumped him a month before it happened, when people were starting to plan for their heats. Given the timing, he’d probably been cheating on Jiyong with some other omega and ditched Jiyong to help the other man (or woman) through his heat instead.  
  
When he’s allowing himself to wallow in misery, which he does far more than he’d like to admit, Jiyong presumes this imagined other omega to be the ideal omega. One who would happily stay home all day to raise the babies and stroke his ex’s alpha ego. They would be the polar opposite of Jiyong, whose successful career had always been a sore spot in their relationship. Jiyong had always had the higher income of the two, and somehow his ex had never understood that the fact that Jiyong didn’t need him financially didn’t mean he didn’t need him at all.  
  
Jiyong had been aware that it wasn’t working and as such wasn’t particularly surprised that it was over, although the timing was horribly rude. Breaking up with an omega right before his heat is even worse than breaking up with someone right before Valentine’s Day.  
  
Ordinarily, Jiyong threw fantastic heat-breaking parties whenever he was single and going into heat. He’d start planning months ahead of time, coming up with the best possible mix of people to help him through it. One year he’d stuck to models; another year, drummers.  
  
But with only a month to plan, and that a month in which he wanted to do nothing but mope about how he’s a failure of an omega and write angsty songs about assholes who dump him, he couldn’t find the enthusiasm for it. For all he loves sex, asking people to come fuck him when he’s an incoherent mess takes a lot of self-confidence and a lot of trust in the people he asks.  
  
A week ago, that sounded like a reasonable excuse. Now, as he claws at his sheets and tries to make do with toys that somehow provide too much stimulation and not enough at the same time, it sounds like complete bullshit.  
  
He’d woken with his whole body on fire, jerking in orgasm from a dream about being fucked by both Jung Yunho and Shim Changmin, of all people, and at the same time. It took barely a minute before he was hard again from the memories of the dream filtering through his head, of Yunho behind him, with a supportive arm around his waist while Changmin thrusted in between his legs until he was filled with two knots.  
  
As ridiculous as the thought actually was ( _Two knots? Really, Jiyong? That would fucking hurt,_ he’s thought, several times), he’s come to it five times now. His wrists ache as he presses his vibrator inside himself again, pushing for a sixth orgasm that he knows he can achieve, that he longs for even while he’s slightly nauseated by the thought.  
  
After the sixth doesn’t even really feel good, he drops his vibrator to the floor and lies back, panting but not sated—there is no “sated” for him, right now. Everything is too sensitive, swollen, and yet he could manage a seventh orgasm right now if he tried.  
  
Bed is disgustingly uncomfortable with his soaked sheets, so he drags himself off of it, stumbling on too-tight calves to the kitchen. He downs two glasses of water in a handful of minutes, like a high school student with a few beers and something to prove, then yanks the sheets off his bed before stumbling into the shower.  
  
When he gets out, he tugs fresh sheets onto the bed as quickly as he can. It provides a welcome distraction from all of the sexual thoughts to ponder why, in presumably several thousand years of sheet-making history, nobody has come up with sheets that are easier to get on the bed.  
  
Bed-making accomplished, and with the previous set of sheets in the wash, he curls up for a quick nap until his body recovers enough to wake him with a hard-on, a damp ass, and memories of his last heat, which he’d made it through with the help of three alphas and two betas. That was the drummer-themed heat. It was a lot more pleasant than this one has been, so far.  
  
Sometime in the evening, he feels woozy and lightheaded when he stands up halfway through the umpteenth iteration of his nap-wake up-get off-drink water-shower-nap routine. Sitting back down on the bed while he waits for his vision to clear, he realizes that he hasn’t eaten a single thing with calories in it all day.  
  
When he’s recovered enough to make it to the kitchen, he discovers a depressing lack of food there and ends up boiling water for ramen. He wraps himself in a towel to protect his chair before sitting down to wait for the water to boil, too weak for a shower.  
  
It’s then that he hears the melody of “Heartbreaker” coming from his living room. After a moment of confusion, he realizes that it’s accompanied by the rhythmic buzz of a phone vibrator. Someone must have messed with his ringtone again—so many of his friends are pranksters that he can’t even begin to guess which one, although Youngbae and Seungri are high on the list because he’s seen them recently.  
  
Or maybe it was a parting shot from his ex, the asshole.  
  
When he gets to the living room and doesn’t see his phone in its usual spot next to his favorite chair, he realizes that it’s actually charging in his bedroom. Fishing the ringing phone out of the couch cushions, he sighs when he recognizes Seungri’s gaudy phone case. It makes perfectly good sense, considering he’d had Seungri over for drinks a couple days ago.  
  
He barely has time to think, jabbing the answer button before the call goes to voicemail. If it does, he’ll be locked out of it, and then he’ll have to text all their mutual friends that he has Seungri’s phone until the message makes it to Seungri. That’s a tough thing to manage on a good day, and today is not a good day.  
  
Something like sixty percent of the omega population of Korea goes into heat during one two-week span in May each year, and they’re currently in that two-week span. Practically speaking, that means a lot of people are only looking at their phones long enough to call for delivery people, and a lot of other people are too busy making bank as delivery people during what’s known in the food industry as Hot Weeks to check their phones.  
  
Sure enough, it’s Seungri’s voice that answers his hello.  
  
“Bring me takeout, and I will forgive you for interrupting my heat,” Jiyong snaps, hanging up before Seungri can get a word in edgewise. Turning off the stove, Jiyong decides to chance a quick, lukewarm shower, feeling secure in the knowledge that he will have food soon. He has Seungri well-trained as the result of a decision he’d made years ago, when he’d learned that he was expected to be the leader of a group that included a horny alpha two years his junior.  
  
To the side of him that understood the business of boybands, it had made perfectly good sense. They already had two omegas and two betas, but only one alpha, otherwise, and it’s alphas that tend to sell.  
  
In terms of his preferences, however, it had been infuriating. The elder Seunghyun was okay, because he’d been Jiyong’s friend for years, and Seunghyun respected Jiyong. He’d never been overbearing or pushy, the way that alphas often are, and he didn’t want in Jiyong’s pants.  
  
A new alpha, on the other hand, was absolutely not what he wanted. Especially not a younger alpha. Being pushed around and pursued by someone he had to live with would be bad enough; the thought of dealing with alpha condescension and protectiveness coming from a skinny, baby-faced kid every day was enough to make Jiyong go into Yang Hyunsuk’s office and scream. So he did.  
  
Years later, he’d wonder if Hyunseung’s removal from the group, leaving Jiyong the only omega, was a punishment for the hubris of challenging Yang Hyunsuk’s authority.  
  
With no other options available, Jiyong settled for asserting his authority over Seungri every chance he got. He’d send Seungri to get things for him that he didn’t even need, or make him rehearse a dance over and over to fix flaws that didn’t exist. Seungri had forgotten the “hyung” after Jiyong’s name once and been stuck with bathroom-cleaning duty for a month as punishment.  
  
It’s embarrassing to think about now, how cruel he was, but he really does appreciate having a well-trained Seungri.  
  
Sure enough, the doorbell rings as Jiyong is feebly attempting to towel his hair dry. When he presses the intercom button, Seungri says, “Hyung, I brought your food. Wanna send somebody out with my phone for a trade?”  
  
Steeling himself, Jiyong tells him to bring it up to his door instead and buzzes him into the building. Seungri is about to see him in heat for the first time, and he feels insecure about it. He probably shouldn’t, when Seungri has seen him in all kinds of other pathetic states, and when they have a long history of decidedly sexual teasing between the two of them.  
  
But teasing is one thing, and the desperate vulnerability of heat is another. In the early years of Big Bang, before he moved out of the dorm, he’d hole up in hotel rooms at the first sign of heat, with a revolving door of friends and lovers coming to help him through it, sometimes several at once. Trustworthy people only, because heat-breaking parties were still scandalous—omegas were supposed to be embarrassed by their sexuality, whereas a party implied that they were enjoying it.  
  
He’s so distracted by the thought of Seungri seeing him like this that he’s entirely unprepared for the other glaring problem, which is that Seungri is an alpha.  
  
Seungri may not look like much of an alpha, with his narrow shoulders and relatively short stature, but the second Jiyong opens the front door, his nose is assaulted by the _smell_ of alpha. His erection is back instantly, and his ass lets out the smallest bit of lubrication like some kind of passive-aggressive suggestion. The message is something like, “I’m not saying you _have_ to fuck him. I’m just saying that there is an alpha right in front of your face, and you know what they say about looking gift horses in the face. But don’t feel obligated or anything. We can suffer through this heat alone if we have to.”  
  
He’s taking a step back, reeling from the smell, when Seungri takes a step inside, clearly sniffing the air. It brings back memories of a game Jiyong used to play, back when he and Seungri had shared a bed in the dorm.  
  
It had started one night, when Jiyong made an inadvisable decision and had sex with Teddy in the studio.  
  
_His feelings about Teddy have always been a mess of idolization and attraction. It’s a kind of love, in a way, but Jiyong is far too young for Teddy. The age imbalance would make being tied to an alpha that much worse, because Jiyong would never, ever have the upper hand. As much as Teddy might respect Jiyong, there are always moments when Jiyong can tell that he’s staying silent on something—disagreement, disapproval, dismay—because he thinks Jiyong is too young to understand. It would bother Jiyong to no end if they were a couple._  
  
But on this particular night, there’s a faint smell of alpha attraction when Jiyong walks into the studio that only gets stronger as the night wears on. He’s been slightly horny, himself, and getting close enough to heat that he knows he’s starting to put out his own pheromones.  
  
When he glances to his side, he’s entranced by the sight of Teddy’s hands as they move across the controls. Teddy looks up and catches his eye, and one thing leads to another, and Jiyong ends up with his first friend with benefits.

 _When he gets home that night, Seungri is already asleep in his bed. Jiyong strips to his underwear and climbs in next to him, too tired to shower even though he feels more than a little gross._  
  
As soon as he’s under the blankets, he hears a whiny noise coming from where Seungri is lying. The bed bounces, and then Seungri’s face is pressing into Jiyong’s neck, sniffing.  
  
“Seungri, what the fuck are you doing?” Jiyong asks, tensing up.  
  
“Mmmgh,” Seungri grumbles. “Smell…”  
  
It has to be the smell of rival alpha all over Jiyong that’s bothering Seungri, Jiyong thinks as an arm and a leg come flying over Jiyong’s shoulder and pull him tight against Seungri’s body. Relaxing, Jiyong snickers. He has Seungri trained far too well to do this when he’s awake, so he’s pretty sure Seungri doesn’t even know he’s doing it. The knowledge that he can torture Seungri like this is thrilling.  
  
He’s also feeling cozy and warm and safe, so he doesn’t kick Seungri out of bed for overreaching his boundaries.  
  
In the morning, Jiyong is awoken by Seungri grinding lightly0020against his hip. He feigns sleep while Seungri wakes up, realizes what he’s doing, and panics. Keeping his mouth from twitching is a feat that Jiyong is proud of when Seungri says, “Oh fuck!”  
  
He’s even more proud of himself for keeping a sleeping face on when Seungri whispers, “Hyung? Are you awake?”  
  
There’s a sigh of relief when Jiyong doesn’t respond, followed by a long string of whispered oh fucks. The door opens as Seungri leaves the room, presumably to take a shower, and Jiyong barely manages to hold still until the door closes again, whereupon he presses his face into a pillow to muffle the sound of his laughter.  
  
After that, he’d made it a game to crawl into bed smelling like other people. He’d go out to clubs and let alphas or betas or omegas rub up on him and gauge the differences in Seungri’s unconscious reactions. They were most possessive when Jiyong had been around alphas, he remembers, especially if he fucked one, and they were pure excitement when Jiyong messed with other omegas.  
  
Now, however, Seungri is older, and awake, and the smell of excited alpha is dampened by the facial expression of a concerned friend.  
  
“Hyung, are you alone?”  
  
Jiyong is too tired and distracted to lie, so he nods, looking away as Seungri frowns. “And you don’t even have anyone checking up on you?”  
  
With a glare, Jiyong says, “I’m fine. But thanks for the food.”  
  
He makes an attempt to grab the takeout from Seungri’s hand, holding his phone out with his other hand for an even exchange, but he sways on his feet and trips. He ends up faceplanting into Seungri’s chest and dropping Seungri’s phone on the floor.  
  
“Fuck,” he says.  
  
“Shit, hyung,” Seungri says at the same time. Ignoring his phone, he gets Jiyong’s arm around his shoulders and starts walking him in the direction of the kitchen.  
  
As they make their way to the table, Jiyong notices the smell of some other omega in Seungri’s clothes. The idea that Seungri’s been helping with some other omega’s heat is hardly a surprise; Seungri’s always been a bit of a slut, and he’s probably incredibly good in bed, if his dancing is any indication. And there’s no other way Seungri would’ve gone two days without his phone.  
  
But the part of Jiyong that is an irrational, recently dumped omega in heat is filled with an intense bout of jealousy. Here he is, struggling through his heat on his own, and Seungri is off fucking some omega whose smell Jiyong doesn’t even recognize, though there’s also a bit of flowery perfume that makes him assume it’s a woman. If he ever meets this woman he will cut her for touching his alpha, even though Seungri is technically not his alpha.  
  
At the same time, he’s fully hard and dripping slick as his sex-deprived mind comes up with images of Seungri fucking a desperate woman.  
  
Seungri settles him at the table and takes several little plastic containers from his plastic bag, opening them up and setting them in front of Jiyong. Jiyong’s hand shakes as he wraps a bit of meat around some rice with his chopsticks, and he practically moans when it reaches his tongue. Once he’s had a few mouthfuls, Seungri gets up and pours him a glass of water.  
  
“What kind of food do you want to bring you tomorrow?” Seungri asks.  
  
Jiyong supposes he should just be glad Seungri isn’t insisting on staying and babysitting him.  
  
“Don’t you have some other omega to help?” He sneers, despite himself.  
  
“I did, but she’s got plenty of other help,” Seungri says. “She won’t miss me much.”  
  
Jiyong chews some food slowly as an excuse to delay his response while he wages an internal battle of pride versus hormones. The idea that Seungri isn’t actually too busy for him makes certain parts of his body even more excited.  
  
Seungri misinterprets his continued silence for bruised pride and says, “Really, hyung. If that’s too much I can just order you delivery.”  
  
With a sigh, Jiyong tells him to sit down at the table and shut up until Jiyong has finished his meal. Seungri obeys, regarding Jiyong quietly as he eats.  
  
It takes until the very last morsel of rice on the tray of food he’s working on for Jiyong to feel human enough to make wise decisions again, and then he drinks half his glass of water while he considers what he’s about to do. When the downsides all remain distant, he speaks.  
  
“What if I asked you to stay?”  
  
Seungri’s eyes widen. “Stay as in?”  
  
“Stay as in fuck the living daylights out of me,” Jiyong keeps his eyes on Seungri’s in a challenge. “Let me find out if all the rumors are true.”  
  
Without breaking eye contact for a second, Seungri stands up slowly and moves around the table until he’s towering over a still-seated Jiyong and crowding his space with alpha scent. It shouldn’t be surprising to Jiyong how quickly Seungri goes from alarmed baby panda to Adonis, considering how often he’s witnessed it on stage, but it still sends a thrill through his already worked up body.  
  
“And what have you heard, exactly?” Seungri asks.  
  
Jiyong raises an eyebrow at him, all bravado when he knows damn well that Seungri can smell his body’s damp reaction. “I’ve heard you get rough.”  
  
Getting up so that his face is barely inches from Seungri’s, he adds, “And a little mean.”  
  
He’d never have admitted to the person who’d told him the stories, offended, that Seungri’s degrading comments turned him on, even heard secondhand.  
  
But now Seungri’s hand is sliding up to grab his jaw, thumb pressing against his lips, and the remembered words are definitely doing things to his cock as Jiyong bites down gently on the thumb.  
  
“Only a little mean?”  
  
“Shut up and fuck me, alpha,” Jiyong demands.  
  
With a grin, Seungri captures Jiyong’s lips in a hard kiss. Plastering himself against Seungri’s body, Jiyong wraps his arms around Seungri’s shoulders and gives as good as he gets.  
  
Seungri’s arms wrap around his back, and Jiyong shudders just because they’re surprisingly strong and his fucking omega body is stereotypically really excited about that.  
  
Then Seungri palms his ass, and Jiyong buries his face in Seungri’s shoulder in embarrassment as a bit of slick makes its way between his legs. He rocks up against Seungri’s body, in need of friction, but Seungri grabs his belt loops to hold him back.  
  
“Not so fast,” Seungri says into his ear in this amazingly sexy soft voice that is definitely going to be on Big Bang’s next record in more than one song.  
  
Jiyong lets out a nearly involuntary whine, deciding shame is for people who don’t have to deal with heats, and Seungri laughs.  
  
“I should have figured you’d be a desperate whore,” he says. “I mean, how many people did you fuck while we lived in the dorms?”  
  
Gasping, Jiyong bucks his hips again, only to be stopped by Seungri’s hands once more.  
  
“But where are they now, Jiyongie-hyung?” The “hyung” is deliberately delayed, insulting, and Jiyong curses as it just makes him wetter. “You must have terrible taste in people that they’ve abandoned you like this.”  
  
Jiyong groans, a retort about how he must have terrible taste in people to have asked such a terrible tease to help him with his heat dying on his tongue as Seungri drags his head back with a hand in his hair to kiss him again. Jiyong capitulates, or tries to, when Seungri’s teeth scrape across his bottom lip, because this show of dominance is exactly what he wanted. But his body is too damn eager to wait patiently, and his hips move of their own accord in tiny circles against thin air.  
  
And really, Seungri is far too in control of himself, Jiyong thinks as Seungri drags out the kissing for what seems like forever. In an attempt to move things along, Jiyong sneaks a hand down to the front of Seungri’s pants and rubs ever so lightly. Seungri hums into his mouth and presses into his hand once, twice before pulling away from him completely.  
  
“If you’re so eager, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind blowing me,” he says. It’s not quite a question and not quite an order.  
  
Jiyong starts to slide to his knees, but Seungri stops him. “Take your clothes off first.”  
  
So Jiyong strips. He hardly misses his clothes, as damp and unnecessary as they were on his overheated body, but he feels exposed when he catches Seungri dragging his eyes down his body like he hasn’t seen it a million times already.  
  
On his knees, he undoes Seungri’s pants and pushes them down to his (deliciously solid) thighs with his underwear, and then he has to pause for a moment to inhale the potent alpha scent and palm himself. He borrows some of the lubricant from his own legs to slick his hand, and then he wraps it around Seungri’s already fully hard cock. He appreciates the girth as he gives a couple slow jerks, along with the evidence that Seungri isn’t as unaffected by his heat as he’s acting. The knot is already visible at the base of his cock, and Jiyong wraps his fingers around it, trying to imagine it sliding into him.  
  
“Go ahead and get an idea,” Seungri says with a smirk. “That way you’ll know just what you’re begging for later.”  
  
Jiyong glares up at him, mostly for show, as he finally wraps his lips around the head of Seungri’s dick and sucks. He’s rewarded with Seungri’s head tipping back, and a little moan.  
  
He works quickly, bobbing his head to take in as much as he can with his mouth and getting the rest with his hands, moaning when Seungri’s hands make their way into his hair and tug.  
  
He doesn’t bother trying to touch himself; his cock is already sore from a full day of completely unsatisfying masturbation, and between the weight of Seungri’s cock in his mouth, the heady smell of alpha lust all around him, and his own unending heat, it doesn’t really matter much that he’s not touching himself. He gets harder and wetter without being touched, and he comes helplessly when Seungri pulls his hair hard and calls him a whore again.  
  
It doesn’t take the edge off his heat at all, not when what his body is craving is currently being shoved in his face.  
  
A breathless Seungri pulls himself out of Jiyong’s mouth and stares down at him for a moment, hand wrapped around the base of his own cock. Leaning down, he swipes some of the mess from Jiyong’s stomach and holds it up for him to lick. Jiyong obliges with a happy moan, looking directly into Seungri’s eyes again.  
  
He’s rewarded with Seungri scooping him up and carrying him off to the bedroom.  
  
“When did you get so strong?” he pants into Seungri’s shoulder.  
  
Seungri laughs. “Like it?”  
  
Jiyong just moans in response, and Seungri drops him onto the bed.  
  
Seungri strips before joining him, disgustingly slowly, grinning when he catches Jiyong’s unabashed stare. He has amazing stretches of wonderfully smooth skin that should really not be so far away from Jiyong right now.  
  
Sure enough, the amazing stretches of wonderfully smooth skin look much better when they’ve settled between Jiyong’s legs, but then Seungri makes to slide a couple fingers into him and Jiyong swears.  
  
“I don’t need that, Seungri.”  
  
“I know you don’t,” Seungri says, leaning over Jiyong to kiss him as his fingers slide in anyway. “But it’s just not good heat sex if I don’t get to see how desperate you can get.”  
  
Jiyong moans into Seungri’s mouth at that, pushing his ass down on Seungri’s fingers. He can feel the slick sliding out of him again, all over Seungri’s fingers, and if Seungri wants to get his hands all disgusting then it’s his own problem.  
  
Seungri moves down to nip at Jiyong’s throat, and then his chest, while he thrusts his fingers in and out, finding Jiyong’s prostate every other time, until Jiyong is a whimpering mess.  
  
Eventually Seungri sits back without pausing his fingers to look at Jiyong with dark eyes. “You like that?” he asks.  
  
Jiyong curses, and Seungri stops moving his hand between his legs. When it’s clear that he’s waiting for an answer, Jiyong bites out a, “Yes, I like it.”  
  
He’s rewarded with Seungri’s hand moving again. Seungri keeps talking, “It’s funny how the tables turn, isn’t it? You used to come home smelling like any fucking alpha you could find just to tease me. You never would have let me do this back then.”  
  
Jiyong just moans in response, but Seungri takes it as a cue to continue. “Did you think I didn’t notice? Didn’t think it was weird how you’d fuck people and not even bother to shower before you got into bed with me? You’re too fastidious.”  
  
He eases in a third finger, thrusting faster.  
  
“I bet you thought it was funny, watching me get all hard for you when you’d made it so fucking clear that you were out of my reach.”  
  
Jiyong pants and scrabbles at the headboard, ready to come again already. The thought of Seungri realizing what Jiyong was up to all those years ago isn’t helping, nor is Seungri’s voice—Seungri could be reciting the English alphabet right now, and it would still be sexy. Jiyong’s toes start to curl, and his body tenses, but Seungri wraps his free hand around the base of Jiyong’s cock to keep him from coming.  
  
“Not yet,” he says. “I’d think you’d have a bit more staying power with all that experience you have.”  
  
Jiyong whines, and Seungri removes the hand that’s between his legs to wrap it around his neck instead, still holding him back from orgasm with his other hand. He doesn’t close the hand at Jiyong’s throat, just holds it there to assert his dominance, and Jiyong bucks against his hand.  
  
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Seungri asks.  
  
“Yes,” Jiyong says. For good measure, he adds a, “Please.”  
  
It must be what Seungri’s going for, because he lets go of Jiyong’s cock to nudge his legs farther apart and slides in.  
  
Jiyong groans in sheer relief at finally, finally being filled the way he wants. He comes on the spot, but he’s hard again instantly. The hand on his throat disappears to move to the pillows instead, and he misses it even as he appreciates the strength the added leverage lends to Seungri’s thrusts.  
  
Thrusting up to meet Seungri, Jiyong lets a little litany of Seungri’s name fall from his lips. He’s rewarded with Seungri’s hand on his cock, jerking him off. He can feel Seungri’s knot building as it presses up against him with each down thrust until finally he begs for it and Seungri obliges.  
  
The stretch is almost unbearable even in the throes of heat, and Jiyong shouts his orgasm this time as Seungri’s arms start to shake around him. Wrapping his arms around Seungri’s neck, he feels just a bit victorious at Seungri’s slack jaw and dark eyes, and then at the way that Seungri buries his face in Jiyong’s neck just like he used to in bed, all those years ago.  
  
They lie still for several minutes after it’s all over, until the need for water becomes too desperate for Jiyong to ignore.  
  
“Seungri, get me some water,” he demands, petting Seungri’s shoulder to take the sting off. Grunting, Seungri rolls out of bed, then grabs Jiyong and carries him to the kitchen.  
  
Jiyong squawks as he’s dropped onto the counter. “That’s disgusting, Seungri. Do you know how disgusting I am right now?”  
  
“Whatever,” Seungri says, pouring two glasses of water and handing one to Jiyong. “It’s not a real heat if you don’t have to bleach every surface in your apartment when it’s over.”  
  
“Besides,” he continues after sipping his drink. “You’re not nearly as disgusting now as you will be when I fuck you right there in another ten minutes.”  
  
Embarrassed at the moan that makes its way out of him in response to that, Jiyong covers his mouth with his hand and looks away. He’s surprised when Seungri sets his glass down and crowds into his space to take the hand away.  
  
“Don’t be embarrassed, hyung,” Seungri says, peering into Jiyong’s eyes with his own soft brown ones. “You need what you need, and it’s not going to change what I think about you. We’re all adults here.”  
  
Jiyong can’t help but grin and pinch Seungri’s cheeks in response to that. He laughs at Seungri’s put out face.  
  
And then he makes Seungri make good on his promise about the counter.

**Author's Note:**

> So I read a lot of ABO right before I got to see Big Bang, and then Seungri was all sexy on stage, and then I was sitting in the car after the concert thinking what if, on top of everything else that ticked him off about Seungri, GD had been an omega saddled with being in charge of some randy young alpha. And that led to this.


End file.
